


Holiday Thing

by Kylia (saphicwitch)



Series: New Traditions [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Christmas, Holidays, M/M, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-21
Updated: 2006-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphicwitch/pseuds/Kylia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander spends a lonely holiday in LA</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday Thing

**Holiday Thing**

****

* * *

****

"Are you sure about this? You don't mind?" Giles turned around and regarded me with that strange expression. That one that told me he was trying to figure me out.

Hadn't he realized that that wasn't possible? If I hadn't figured myself out, when I knew how bizarre I was, how could a stuffy, British watcher figure me out? Although to be fair, he really wasn't that stuffy, but I like to stay with a stereotype. It makes things simpler.

"Xander? Are you all right?"

I look up and realize I got stuck in my own twisted thoughts. Again. That's been happening a lot lately. I think it's the time of year. The holidays always cause me to have these weird periods of introspection. You know when all my friends are off with their families. Their loved ones, doing that whole holiday thing. And I'm in this weird nowhere state.

I don't have the family thing, and this time of year, I don't even have the friend thing. And I never really got the holiday thing. Sure I understand it in principle. In  _theory_.

But I never had one of those warm fuzzy Christmas mornings. You know the ones where you wake up at the crack of dawn and run downstairs, into the living room, or family room or wherever it is your happy family has put up the tree. And there's all these presents, and you drag your beloved parents out of bed and insist on opening them. And soon the house is filled with bags of trash, and shiny new toys and the smell of Christmas dinner.

I never had that. Never really knew it was more than something you see on TV until I realized that it wasn't. Not just something you see on TV. Real people lived their lives like that. Maybe not too many I knew, but people did.

Jesse's life had been like that, before he died. Willow's never was, but her parents tried to make up for it, in their own way. I think it used to bother her, when we were younger. But these days she has her own life. Her friends, and her family, outside of family, so to speak.

And I am a part of that. Really I am. But at times like this, I really don't want to be. I don't want to be surrounded by these people I know, who think they know me, and have this incredible yen for this time of year. They want to buy all these lights, and decorate their Christmas trees and, god forbid, even sing Christmas carols. They want to spend all of this happy holiday time with this makeshift family we've formed.

Not me. I just want to forget. I don't want to know what Christmas could be like. I don't want to compare what this year could be with what all the years previous have been. I don't want to look at things with new eyes.

Because if I do that, I'll have to admit to what I've been missing.

And if I do that, I'll be able to look around at all my friends, in their happy lives, and loving relationships, and see how alone I really am. I'll have to see that despite my part in this odd little family, living atop the Hellmouth, I have no one and nothing. I am truly alone here.

And that's frightening.

So, for once I'm glad that the G-man has some mundane assignment for me. Because without it, I'd be stuck, with no way out.

"Xander? Xander?"

I blink. Giles is looking at me strangely and realize that I got lost again. Oh well.

"Hey, G-man. It's no big. I'll take your little what's-it to LA, drop it off in Deadboy's hands, and then come right back here." Even as I say the words, with that goofy grin plastered to my face I know that it's a lie.

Oh sure, I'll take whatever it is to Angel, and I'll drop it off and leave, but I'm not actually planning on coming back here. At least not right away. Maybe a few days in some small motel between here and Los Angeles are just what I need to get this holiday out of my head. A few days alone couldn't hurt.

"If you're sure?" Giles asks me as he turns away and walks over to his bookshelf, looking for some obscure relic.

After a few minutes he pulls out a couple of books that are dustier than any books have a right to be and a small, oddly shaped box. The box is sealed, and locked. I shrug as I take the book and the box. "I'm sure."

And I am. I have a plan.

I leave Giles' apartment and make my way towards my car. I climb in and start to drive off, not even bothering to stop by my apartment and get a change of clothes, or pack a bag or anything. Not that it will matter. I'll be alone as soon as I drop this stuff off, and its not like I need to dress up to see Deadboy.

I seriously doubt he'll pay more attention to me than is absolutely necessary to get what I'm going there to deliver. So, with that decided, I turn onto the highway, and make my way towards Los Angeles, and hopefully a quiet holiday weekend, away from my family, my friends, and other things I just don't want to think about.

* * *

"Your not going to sit here and brood all night, are you?" Cordelia walks across the floor of the lobby as she waits for my response.

She's quirked her eyebrow at me and its almost as if she's  _daring_  me to say that I won't brood, even though she knows damn well that I will. And it's not event that I'm terribly depressed, or feeling all that broody at the moment. It just seems as though that's what I  _should_  be doing. So I will. Well, I'll give it my best shot anyway. At least until she's gone, and I'm left alone.

"Well?"

I look up at her, a slightly amused look, quirking at the corner of my lips. "No. No brooding."

She doesn't look like she believes me, but before she can even utter her belief in the lie I just told, the doors swing open and Gunn walks in.

"You ready?" He asks her.

Cordelia turns towards the vampire hunter and it gives me the first chance to look her over and I realize she is indeed ready. She looks completely different than I would expect to see her two days before Christmas.

She's wearing a comfortable-looking pair of jeans and a simple sweater, and a pair of running shoes.  _Running shoes_. Almost as if she knows that she'll spend several hours on her feet, with probably little time for a break. Which of course is a ridiculous thought, because, of course she knows. It isn't like Gunn's going to blindfold her and drag her to this homeless shelter they're going to.

Actually, it was her idea. She kept going on and on about those visions she had earlier in the year, and all the less fortunate people in the world. Gunn offered to take her to meet some of those  _'less fortunate people'_. I think he was kidding, but she didn't get the joke. Or at least she pretended not to, opting instead to start hounding him until he agreed to take her to do just that.

It was a lost cause. It's not like he could refuse her anything. So, here she is, going out on a  _date_  to a homeless shelter of all places. Things sure have changed.

She turns back around, eyeing me carefully, to make sure that I really am going to be okay. I smile slightly, letting her know that I am. She must see the honesty there, because she just smiles back and faces Gunn again. The two of them leave and I'm left alone.

At last.

A sigh escapes my lips and I'm not entirely certain why it is I am sighing. I'm not really upset, or depressed, nor do I have any real desire to sit here in the dark and brood. Which is kind of odd if you think about it.

These last few weeks have been pretty crazy. Finding out Darla was alive was a shock. And not just that she was among those of us actually walking around. But to find out she was  _ **alive**_. Walking, talking,  _breathing_ , alive. It shattered something in me.

I'm not really certain what it was. But here I was, a vampire, with a soul no less, living, or unliving, trying to help people, fight for redemption. Each day was a struggle. One that I was perfectly willing to live with. A struggle I deserved. A struggle I needed.

And then, all of a sudden, there she was. My sire. A vampire I killed. I dusted her. It went against everything bred into you as a master vampire. I took my Sire's life. That sort of thing just isn't done. Especially in the Order of Aurelius. But yet, I did it.

And, for the most part, I wasn't sorry I did it. I didn't really regret it. I didn't feel bad about it. I did what I had to do. To help Buffy. To save Buffy. It had seemed so important at the time. Like it  _needed_  to be done. And maybe it did. But not for the reason's I thought at the time.

Not because I loved Buffy above all others. Not because she was the love of my unlife and I knew I couldn't exist without her. That reasoning seemed to make sense then. But now?

Now I see that things weren't at all like I thought they were. It wasn't about me and Buffy. It was about the Slayer and the Vampire. Like we were the lead characters in some bizarre children's fairy tale.

She was my redemption, my salvation. Only she wasn't. Not really. I'm not really sure anyone gets that honor, except maybe myself. I am my own salvation. My own redemption. It isn't about someone else, someone good accepting me for what I am, which she never actually did.

But instead, it's about me accepting myself. Me realizing what it is I am, what I have always been, and what I will always be, despite the humanity I may one day earn. Becoming a vampire didn't make me what I am, it just made me see what I was.

It's kind of ironic that it was seeing Darla, truly seeing her, for the first time since the soul restoration, that brought this reality home. Before, I never saw it. I never got it. I never  _got_  her.

Darla was responsible for me feeding on that gypsy girl. But I don't blame her for it. I don't even fault her for the way she reacted afterwards. If she had done anything differently, reacted better, I may never have become who I am today. I may never have started on this path to redemption. I may never have done any number of things that I've done.

Instead, it's likely I would have gotten over my guilt and pushed it all back, and became the killer she thought she created. Instead, I became a different kind of killer. And that's okay. That's  _right_. It's who I am.

In all these years that I've carried around this soul, I've believed that it was a burden of sorts. A punishment for the things I have done. It's not. It's a gift. A gift I now realize and accept.

I know there are things that I still need to accomplish in this life. Things that I will have to do before I become human, but I've just recently realized that even when that happens, it won't change anything.

Sure, I'll be human. I won't need to survive on blood or be as strong. I will be able to walk in the sunshine, and live a normal life, if that's what I want. But it isn't. It won't be. Becoming human won't change who I am. And that's okay.

I'm okay with that. In fact, I'm good. Happy even. Which could be a dangerous situation, in and of itself. But even that doesn't frighten me as much as it should.

I stand up from the couch and make my way through the darkened lobby. I'm not really sure where I'm going exactly or what I plan on doing. I only know that sitting in the dark and brooding is about the last thing I want to do.

* * *

Wow.

Okay, not very good word usage there, but it's the only thing I can think of to say. Or think. I'm standing outside of the hotel that Angel's supposed to be living in and it's kind of big. I'm not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something… smaller.

I know I've been standing outside for about ten minutes and suddenly I'm feeling the chill. It's cold here. Cooler than in Sunnydale. I like that. There's a breeze blowing outside. Feels like rain almost, but it's hard to tell. It's so dark outside it makes it difficult to see if there are any clouds in the sky or not. The only lights nearby are the ones created by the multitude of Christmas decorations, and they aren't really enough to see the sky clearly. At least not this early, from this spot.

I hear a noise and it reminds me that even though I'm not in Sunnydale anymore, it isn't exactly safe to be outside at night. The person I'm going to see is proof of that. Although I don't really believe Angel is dangerous. Well, not to me.

Not that he isn't dangerous in general, with or without his soul. I firmly believe that his soul hasn't really changed him as much as he'd like us to believe. As much as Buffy needs to believe. Don't get me wrong. I think there are changes. He doesn't just go around killing and maiming or anything, but at the same time he isn't somebody's little cuddle-vampire.

Whoa! I don't even  _want_  to think about the images that phrase brought forth. Nope, not at all. Not much anyway.

Well, it's now or never, I guess. The sooner I go inside and deliver these books, and this funny little box, the sooner I can leave. Angel can be left to his own brooding devices and I can find me a nice quiet motel to spend the weekend… alone.

Why is it that that thought sounds less appealing than it did a few hours ago when I was at Giles?

Abandoning my troubled thoughts I push the door open and enter the hotel. I'm not sure what I'm expecting exactly, but the darkness doesn't really surprise me. This is Angel we're talking about here, after all.

"Hello?" I call into the darkened entryway. I can barely see, its so dark inside, but I continue forward anyway. "Deadboy? You in here?"

"Xander?" His voice seems kind of strange. There's a note to it I don't recall hearing before. Not that I've spent a great many hours talking to him or anything.

"Yeah, its me. I brought those books from Giles." I walk a little further and I can make out a vague shape. "Angel?" I ask trying to determine if the shape is him, or something else.

Suddenly I hear a noise. Kind of like a click of a light switch. Yep definitely a lightswitch. Because now I've been blinded by the lights. Not that they're very bright. Actually, as lighting goes, its pretty dim, but compared to the complete darkness of a few seconds ago, it's a shock to the system.

"Sorry." Angel says as I try to cover my eyes.

But I've forgotten that I'm holding a couple of heavy books, and that odd box, and now they've all tumbled to the floor. Which ordinarily wouldn't be any big deal, but those books looked to be  _way_  older than the vampire before me. And that box? It looked breakable.

I look down on the ground, almost afraid of the mess I've made. "Oops."

I bend down and pick up the books and am surprised to find the box is still intact. Still sealed and locked too. I could have sworn it was made of glass. It  _felt_ like glass.

"Sorry." I mumble as I hand him the books.

He takes the books from me and helps me to my feet. I pick up the box and look at it closely. I must have a strange expression on my face because Angel reaches out a hand and places it on my shoulder, which I find kind of odd. I don't recall him ever touching me before, when there wasn't some sort of fight or something, except when he was picking me up off of the floor, like he did a few minutes ago.

"What's wrong?" He's asking me and it takes me a minute to register the question.

"This box." I tell him when I do realize what he's asked. "I thought it was glass. It should have broken. Weird."

He takes it from me and looks at it closely for a minute. "It's magically enhanced." He tells me.

"Ah." Like that explains everything. Which it sort of does. I shake my head to get rid of the cobwebs, which seem to have recently taken up residence. I must be more tired than I thought.

"Well here are those books." I walk over to the front desk of the hotel, which I can now see clearly in the dim lighting. After I set the two books down, I turn around. He's still staring at the box and he has this weird expression on his face.

Well, it seems weird to me, but I can only recall two Angel expressions. The  _I'm-ignoring-you-because-Buffy-would-be-upset-if-I-killed-you_  expression and the _don't-push-me-Xander_  expression. Of course during the Angelus months there were a few *other* expressions that I distinctly remember seeing on his face. And for reason's I won't think about right now, I actually miss those expressions.

But this one seems… I don't know… bewildered somehow. Like he's seeing something that he hasn't seen for a very long time. Hell, maybe he hasn't. Obviously Giles wanted him to have this box for a reason.

"Deadboy?" I ask as I step closer. "You okay?"

Angel looks up at me then, taking his eyes away from the mysterious box. "Yeah, fine."

"Oooo-kay. If you say so." I grin at him and head back towards the door. "Well it's been… brief."

"You're leaving?"

Did he just sound disappointed?

"Yeah, I…" I'm not really sure what I'm going to say now.

"You probably have plans. Christmas with the family." Angel interrupts me.

Yeah. Lets go with that, I have *plans*, even though I don't. "No, not really." Why did I tell him that?

"You don't?" He sounds kind of surprised and when I turn back towards him I see another new expression on his face, only its another one I can't place.

"No. I don't really do the holiday thing." I tell him as I walk back towards him. "You?"

"I was… I was going to decorate. If you'd like to stay for the weekend, you can help me. If you want."

Is it just me or does he seem a bit out of sorts asking if I want to help him decorate. I take a look around at the hotel and I notice how from in here, you can't even tell that it's December, much less  _December 23rd_.

"You're kind of starting a little late here, aren't you Deadboy?" I grin at him and it's the first time since before thanksgiving that it doesn't feel forced.

Angel shrugs and I can almost detect a smile curving his lips. "Yeah well, it's been awhile since I've done the holiday thing myself."

I nod. "We're a pair, aren't we?" I ask him and I notice he's looking expectantly at me and for a minute I can't figure out why, then I remember that I never answered him.

"Decorate, huh?" I ask as my eyes sweep the room once more. I find myself oddly wanting to spend the holiday here. Weird. "Okay. If you don't mind."

* * *

I can't believe I asked him that. I can't believe me, the  _'king of brood'_  as Cordelia loves to call me actually asked Xander Harris to spend Christmas weekend with me. I'm insane. I must be. That's the only logical explanation I can come up with. And even more frightening, I'm pleased that he said yes. Why is that?

More importantly, do I really care?

No, I really don't. And that's nice. I can't remember the last time that I wanted some company. Real company. It's been weeks, maybe months, maybe even decades. Hell, maybe never.

It's been a rough couple of years. Although in all honesty, it been a rough century. But these last few years were harder than I would have thought. And the reason for that can be summed up in one uncomplicated word.

_People._

Only that's sort of the problem. They complicate matters. Only, I've learned that that's not such a bad thing. People are important. People matter. I sort of knew that before. That was why I had such a hard time after my soul was restored.

The guilt was staggering, but that wasn't all it was. I wasn't sure what I was anymore. Where I fit in. I wasn't mortal, but I wasn't vampire either. But that was sort of my problem. And a problem I never even knew I had.

My soul wasn't my problem. Neither was the belief that I was neither fully human or fully demon. I myself, was the problem. It was only recently, after realizing my Sire was still alive, that she had in fact been  _brought_  back to life, that I was forced to remember the past. The way it really had been and not the way I had wanted to see it, in my guilt-filled mind.

I remember the ways things had been both before I lost my soul and after. And I was forced to admit that as much as my turning had changed me, physically, it hadn't really changed who was on the inside, not really. It had given me a bloodlust, a desire to see pain, and inflict it on others, and the means and ability to do it. But it didn't put the darkness in me. That wasn't the demon's doing. That was my own. I've realized that. Admitted it. You could say I've made peace with it. Made peace with myself.

And for the first time, in centuries, I am completely comfortable with who I am and my purpose here. I know what I am supposed to do, and for once my redemption isn't the only thing that's driving me. And that feels good.

Which brings me back to the holiday and how I've suddenly found myself not spending it alone.

I smile more at the oddity of my current situation, but Xander returns the smile with one of his own. And I can see amusement in his dark eyes. It's an expression I haven't seen in a long time, and I realize I missed it.

"Shall we go, Deadboy? You may have an eternity, but I'd like to actually have the decorations up  _before_  Christmas." Xander grins and I can hear the laughter in his voice.

"Is that how its done?" I ask him as I walk towards the front doors. "I thought we did the decorating  _after_  the holiday was over." I disappear out the doors before he can comment and find myself smiling.

* * *

"How about this one?"

I turn to face him and see him holding up some weird looking ornament that looks like some sort of scary hybrid. A cross between a bear, an elf and the ghost of Christmas past.

I shake my head. "I don't think so, Deadboy."

"Oh, come on. It's… It's…"

"It's scary." I supply, and I can't help but grin because he's smiling. Really smiling. And the smile reaches his eyes, which I don't think I've ever seen before.

"Fine. Have it your way, scrooge."

He puts the hideous ornament down and leaves the aisle to go find something else. I watch him leave and I can't help the smile on my face, or the warm, happy feeling that seems to fill me. It's weird. Just a few hours a go I was content to spend the holiday alone in some cheap motel room, while all my friends did their own holiday things with the people they love.

And now?

Now, I'm standing in the middle of some store, that's filled with crazy last-minute shoppers, which I am now one of, with a  _vampire_. And not just any vampire, but Angelus, the Scourge of Europe. The man, who I would have sworn, just a few short hours ago hated me.

But to look at him now, hate isn't anywhere close to what he's feeling. And that's the weird part. He is  _feeling_  something. I'm not entirely certain what, but I find myself with a sudden desire to either figure it out, or to just make sure it continues.

Not that I thought he didn't feel things before, but it wasn't so easy to detect. He used to get this look on his face. One of the two expressions I knew him to have, before tonight.

His face said that he was barely tolerating me and anything I might be saying because that's what Buffy wanted. But his eyes, they were… blank. I think that's the only word I can come up with. Although that's not even accurate. There was something in those eyes. But I could never decipher it.

He seemed to exist, but nothing more. Like he wasn't really living, or unliving, as the case may be. He just existed. At least that the way it appeared, for the most part. That's what I saw. What the others pretended not to see.

But every once in a while I would glimpse something. It was almost feral in its intensity. It was a rare form of passion I had never seen. But not just the passion of love, or even of hate. It was this passion for life. But almost as soon as I saw it, it was gone again, and the mask was back.

And that's exactly what it was. A mask. But no else ever seemed to realize that. Or recognize it for what it was. No one seemed to notice that he wasn't whom they thought. I know everyone believed that he loved Buffy. I think even he believed it. But I never did.

I think that's why I was so hard on him. I saw something in him. This fire, burning just below the surface, and I knew that whatever it was, whatever  _thing_ that would ignite it, it wasn't the Slayer. It wasn't Buffy.

She may have been some flammable substance capable of starting that fire, of causing it to burn right through. But, she wasn't the correct substance.  _The_ substance. The one that would not only light the fire, and burn the flame, but would be ignited, and burn right along with him.

And  _where_  did all these fire metaphors come from?

I look down at the box in my hand and realize I have been standing in the same aisle the entire time I was lost in my own internal thoughts. How long has it been?

"Come on, Harris. The store closes in an hour, and we still have stuff to buy."

I look up to see Angel standing at the end of the aisle staring at me expectantly. I'm sort of frozen to the spot though. I feel a shiver run down my spine, and I'm not really sure why that is.

Something about what he said. It's not as if other people haven't called me Harris. People call me that all the time. Hell,  _he's_  called me that before. But there's something about the  _way_  he said it. The way he said it *this* time. I can't figure out what it is, or why it would effect me, but it does.

"Xander?"

I look up and discover I haven't moved. Angel's stepping closer to me. Now he looks concerned. Another expression I don't think I've seen before. Certainly not aimed at me. And his voice. Again, something in the *way* he said my name.

"I'm fine." I reassure him, holding up the box I was holding. "Just trying to figure out what one does with these?" I grin and hand the box over.

Angel's looking at the box of odd-shaped ornaments carefully, as if he expects it to bite him or something.

"You really put these on your tree?" He asks me.

I shrug. "Who knows. I don't…"

"…Do the holiday thing." He finishes for me and we both smile.

For a moment, one solitary second, the whole world seems to align and I don't feel so out of place. But then some old lady with a cart full of fluorescent green garland pushes past me and the moment is lost.

When I focus on Angel again he's staring at the lady with this odd expression. What looks to be a cross between irritation at the interruption and fascination at what she could possible be thinking to buy  _florescent green_  garland. And I wonder if he felt it too. That moment in time.

I shake my head slightly, pushing all thoughts aside and walking towards my unexpected companion. I look to see what goodies he's found while I floundered in a land of confusion.

"Uh… no." I tell him as I snatch the three boxes of tinsel out of his hands.

"What?" He looks perplexed, and I find myself mentally tabulating all the new expressions I've seen tonight.

"We are not buying tinsel." I tell him firmly as I walk past him and into the next aisle.

"Why not?" he asks as he follows me.

"Because, my dear vampire," I tell him as I drop the boxes on a vacant shelf and leave the dreaded aisle, dragging Angel with me. "Do you want to be pulling that crap off of the floor from now until new years? I for one will not ring in the New Year with tinsel-coated clothing!"

He doesn't comment and remains silent for several long minutes and I think maybe I've said something to upset him. I stop and turn around, looking into his face. He's got  _another_  new expression on his face, but like several of the others, I can't place it. I guess I'll need more practice.

"What?" I ask him as we begin walking again, this time towards the lights display. "What did I say?"

"New Years." He says quietly as we begin to search through the various colors and styles of lights that are still available.

For a minute I don't have a clue what he's talking about, but then my brain replays our conversation and I realize what I've said. Oops. "I, uh..." I'm not sure what to say.

"Would you… do you want to… can you stay?" He finally asks.

I stop and think about this a second. I'm not in any hurry to get back, although I know Giles is expecting to see me the day after Christmas. There was something he said he needed me to do, but it wasn't really that important, was it?

I pick up several boxes of lights before turning to face the vampire, a grin on my face. "Sure. You're gonna need someone to help you pack all this shit away… for next year."

* * *

"I think that's everything."

I turn around and back up a few feet, trying to get the full effect. We've just finished putting up the last string of lights.

"It usually works better if you actually turn them on."

I turn to glare at him. "Harris!" I growl, but there isn't any menace in it and he must sense that because he just continues to grin as he walks over to the switch which should activate the lights.

He flips the switch and the room is bathed in light. Bright, twinkling, multi-colored lights.

"Wow." I whisper. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it looks completely different.

"Yeah, wow." Xander agrees.

I turn to face him and he's got this look on his face. His lips are quirked slightly, like he wants to break out in a full fledge smile, but he's not quite sure if he should.

"We did okay with this holiday thing, Deadboy." He whispers after several long moments of companionable silence.

When I turn to look at him I notice he's stepped closer to me. His eyes are locked on me and now he's close enough to touch. If I wanted to touch him that is. Do I? I'm not sure, but I think I do. In fact, I'm almost sure of it.

But before I can actually act on my newfound desire, the phone rings. It seems to startle him as much as me. He blinks and our eyes lose that weird connection we seemed to have for a second.

"Hello?" I ask into the line when I make my way to the phone. I'm still kind of lost in what  _could_  have been a moment, so I forget to recite our slogan.

"Angel? It's Rupert Giles. Is Xander there?"

"Yes. Hold on." I turn around and hope my disappointment doesn't show on my face as I hand the phone out to my companion.

Xander takes the receiver and shrugs in what I think is apology.

"Hello?" I hear him answer, and is that irritation in his voice?

"Giles?" There's a pause and I wish I could hear what was being said on the other end of the line but he's walked away and is now on the other end of the room and I have to strain to even hear Xander's end of the conversation.

He's groaning now. "Is it really necessary?" He pauses. "G-man, I'm kind of in the middle of something here. Well not here-here, but here as in not-in-Sunnydale." He turns to face me and he's got that apologetic look on his face again.

What is he apologizing for?

"No, Giles, I really can't. Yes, I'm sure."

Another pause.

"They're only books, what difference is a few days going to make?"

More silence on Xander's end.

"I'll be back after New Years."

He turns back around to face me and walks towards me, with the phone in his hand still. "He wants to talk to you." He whispers as he waves the phone at me. Our fingers brush as he hands me the receiver and I forget for a moment what I'm supposed to do with the phone.

After a second, I realize that I'm actually expected to speak into it. "Rupert?" I ask.

"Angel? Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could send Xander home with the volume on Trevahrn Demons out of the Demonology Compendium I sent Cordelia last month?"

I don't know what it is about the question, which bothers me more. The fact that it seems that the only reason he called is because he needed something and wanted Xander to bring it to him, or because the way he referred to Xander's return to Sunnydale as me  _'sending him home'_. Either way, I suddenly am glad that Xander apparently told him he wouldn't be coming back until after New Years, which is still nine days away. Does that mean that he'll be spending that entire time in Los Angeles, or was he being honest when he said his plans weren't *here*? And will it matter to me if he will be going somewhere else?

"Angel?"

I blink as I realize Giles was speaking to me. "I'll give him the book." I tell him absently. There's a pause on the other end as hesitates before speaking.

"How… how is everyone there?" He asks me, almost as if he is afraid to hear the answer.

I smile slightly, more at his awkwardness than at the question. "Good. Wesley went back to England for the holidays."

"And Cordelia?" He asks, and it is clear to me, she is whom he was really asking about.

"She's…" And I smile again as I remember where Cordelia is. "She's working at a homeless shelter tonight." I hear Xander snort and I turn around and grin at him.

"I see." Giles tells me but I can tell from his tone that he doesn't quite believe me.

I'm about to try and explain it to him when out of the corner of my eye I see Xander trying not to laugh. And I'm not sure if its at the situation, which he must have surmised, or if its at something else all together, but suddenly all that matters is the expression on his face, and the complete lack of anything but humor in his eyes. And I no longer care about explaining Cordelia's whereabouts or the book Giles wants, or anything that has anything to do with Sunnydale, except of course for the young man standing in the lobby of my hotel.

"Well, I have to go. Have a nice holiday." Giles begins and then hesitates. "I don't suppose you celebrate Christmas, do you?" He asks, but before I can comment, he's continued speaking. I guess he didn't really want to know the answer.

"Tell Xander I said goodbye."

"I will. Goodnight, Rupert. And Merry Christmas."

"I… Thanks. You too."

He sounds flustered, but I find that more amusing than anything else and I disconnect the phone before anything else can be said. I set the phone down on the counter and walk towards Xander.

I raise an eyebrow at him in question and he just bursts out laughing, apparently unable to hold it in anymore. "What?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, Deadboy." He tells me. "Just the image of Cordy at a homeless shelter." He starts to laugh uncontrollably.

"It's true." I tell him.

"I know." He manages in-between laughter. "That's what so funny."

I frown. Did I miss something? "How much have you had to drink tonight?" I ask him, almost positive he hasn't had anything because he's been with me for nearly ten hours.

Xander's expression changes completely. His smile is gone. Gone from his face and from his eyes as well. What did I say?

"I don't drink." He tells me quietly and then points towards the stairs. "Anyplace in particular you want me to stay?"

I'm confused, but walk towards the stairs anyway, stopping at the front desk to get a room key. I guess I said something to upset him, but I can't quite figure out what it is. "Here." I hand him the key and start up the staircase.

He follows me and it suddenly feels really cold in here. Even though I don't really feel the cold much. When we reach the room across from my own I open the door and he steps inside.

"Thanks." He tells me and begins to close the door.

I stop it before it shuts completely. "Xander?"

"Yeah?" He asks and he seems really tired all of a sudden, his earlier humor a distant memory.

"I'm sorry." I'm not really sure what I'm apologizing for but I suddenly realize that it is needed.

Xander smiles slightly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He looks weary, just as he did when he first arrived here earlier in the evening. "It's okay. I'm really tired. I'll be alright."

I don't really want to leave him alone, but I don't know what else to say so I nod instead. "Goodnight." I tell him and step back, allowing him to shut the door.

* * *

I lean against the door and sigh heavily. I'm not even really sure what happened back there. I was having a good time. A  _really_  good time, which is kind of surprising. I can't remember the last time I had anything more than a barely tolerable holiday. But there I was, having *fun*. Decorating the Hotel's lobby and joking around, after spending close to five hours in the insanity that was last-minute shoppers. The weird thing was, the crazy shoppers didn't even bother me.

It was actually nice. To be out there, with people, and buying lights and ornaments, and garland, and explaining the completely and utter insanity of tinsel. And it was fun, and relaxing even. And the most mind boggling of all, it was with Deadboy.  ** _Angel_**  of all people. I must have lost my mind.

Somewhere between Sunnydale and Los Angeles, I must have dropped it. Or better yet, maybe I deposited it in one of those rental lockers. Funny, I don't remember stopping at a train or bus station.

The kicker is, I was having more fun *shopping* off all things, with *Angel* of all people, than I can remember having in my entire life. Even the holiday shopping trips I was shanghaied into by Willow or Buffy over the years didn't even come close.

Why is it I felt more completely comfortable with a vampire who's supposed to be my worst enemy than I do with my best friends? And why is it that when Giles called and asked me to go back to Sunnydale early and bring some book that he just  _had_  to have that I felt as though my entire world was tipped on its axis.

I don't know why I was surprised by the call. It wasn't as if I actually had a life, or plans of my own, or a place to spend Christmas while everyone else was with their families.

It wasn't as if I mattered.

Even as I think this, I realize I'm being a bit harsh, but at the moment, I don't really care. I was having a perfectly enjoyable Eve before Christmas Eve until that phone call. Did that even make sense? I'm even confused in my head. No matter, it all boils down to the same thing.

The holidays suck.

And not in that  _I-want-drain-your-blood_  vampire way. Although there is that.

And to add insult to injury, I can't believe how I reacted to Angel when he asked how much I had drank. It just sort of bothered me.

It's true. I don't drink. It reminds me too much of my parents and the insanity of a Harris family Christmas. And that is one memory I'd like to forget. I know that Angel didn't mean anything by it. I was acting pretty strange. Giddy even.

How was he to know that the consumption of alcohol could be a touchy subject? It's not as though we're actually friends. But I now realize that I'd like to be. And the idea that I probably upset him by letting my family history and Giles phone call get to me bothers me more than I'd like to admit.

Sighing again I straighten up and walk back out the door. However, once I step outside, I'm not really sure where I'm going. There are so many rooms, how am I gonna find the one room with the walking corpse?

Thankfully, the room across from mine has a light on underneath the door. I hope that means that that's Angel's and not that there's some ghost that needs light to haunt by.

I chuckle at my own thoughts and wonder if there's any significance to the fact that out of all the rooms in this hotel, Angel put me across from his. I move towards his door, pushing my questions aside.

I knock once and wait for a minute.

"Come in." His voice sounds kind of distant but I assume that is because there is a door separating us.

I open the door and then step inside, closing it behind me. "Angel? I, uh… I wanted to apologize."

Angel's standing at the window, which is opened and the closer I come to it, the more of the city's Christmas lights I can see.

"It's beautiful this time of year." He speaks quietly. "I never really noticed it before. I never really thought I deserved it."

I come even closer and then we are standing side by side, staring out into the night, brightened by zillions of Christmas lights, which look kind of small from our perch three floors above ground.

"And now?" I ask, knowing that he wouldn't be discussing this with me, if he didn't want or need to.

He turns slightly to look at me. "Now, I want to see them. I want to see all there is to see. I want to live."

I grin at him a bit. "You do realize that technically you aren't living?" I place a hand on his shoulder slightly, not really certain if its appropriate but believe that somehow it's not only appropriate but wanted. "But breathing isn't really a requirement. Look at me."

He turns fully then and stares at me, a brow quirked in silent question. I sigh. "I breath, I live. But I don't. Not really." I turn to stare out at the city once more, taking my hand away. "I'm sorry about earlier. Giles calling kind of bothered me, and then the alcohol comment just sort of set me off." I shrug and I am certain he's going to comment.

Instead he turns back to the view and places as reassuring squeeze on my shoulder. "Tell you what, Harris. You don't mock my desire to live, when I clearly don't, and I won't complain about how you should, but aren't."

I smile then and turn to him. "Why don't we help each other learn to live a little?"

He smiles back. "Why don't we?"

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Vague post S4 BtVS/S1 Angel. Holiday series beginning with Winter holidays. Alternating POV's


End file.
